Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 236 Prey
The silhouette of the wind chime gradually solidified amidst the wisps of smoke from the incense burner.

The maid, who is always veiled, offers freshly picked fruit with both hands.

“Tell that stubborn boy,” Lady Aishar said, using the tip of her dagger to lift a strand of her golden hair and gently cut it off, “that he either lies on my velvet or faces Crawford’s iron cavalry.” The moment the hair fell, all the candles in the palace turned an eerie purple. “He only has half a month to consider.”

As the crows' flapping wings faded into the distance, the divination cards on the dressing table flipped by themselves, finally settling on "Dragon Eater Knight".

Mrs. Aisha stood in front of the crystal mirror, her fingertips gently tracing the surface, and Robin's figure appeared in the mirror on the training field.

Each swing of his dragon-slaying spear created a distorted ripple in the air.

"Dragon-Devouring Breathing Technique," she murmured, a hint of apprehension flashing in her purple eyes.

That breathing technique, known as the most difficult to master, has been passed down in the kingdom for hundreds of years, and is even mastered by more than a dozen ancient noble families. However, the strongest among them throughout history has only been a Grand Knight.

Very few people can master the Dragon Breathing Technique to the level of a Legendary Knight, but Robin was able to master it to the level of an Order Knight, which is simply too incredible.

The scene in the mirror changed, and Iron Jaw, his body wrapped in crimson energy, smashed the training iron stake with a single punch.

Behind him, dozens of slave knights practiced their combat skills in perfect unison, each with a burning fervent loyalty in their eyes.

"It's only been half a year," Mrs. Aishar said, her nails digging unconsciously into her palm, "and she has already cultivated such power."

She turned and walked towards the balcony, the night breeze ruffling her blonde hair.

In the distance, the Bauhinia Castle loomed in the moonlight, where a force powerful enough to overturn the entire Western Frontier was being nurtured.

"We can't let him continue to grow up like this."

The figure of the wind chime slowly materialized behind her: "Madam, should we eliminate him beforehand?"

Lady Aishar shook her head, a dangerous smile curving her lips: "No, I will make him my sword."

Wind Chime reappeared in Robin's room. The two looked at each other in silence for a long time, and then a passionate encounter took place on the bed.

Moonlight filtered through the gauze curtains, casting dappled shadows on the messy bed.

Robin's fingertips gently traced the bauhinia flower pattern on the back of the wind chime, the mark of the Aisha family's assassins, which was now rising and falling slightly with her breath.

"That old bastard Crawford finally couldn't sit still anymore?" Robin's low chuckle resonated in his chest, while his fingers gently combed through her sweat-dampened hair. "Seven legendary knights? It seems that the batch of emeralds I stole has really hurt him."

Feng Ling's body stiffened slightly, but she ultimately did not break free from his embrace. Her voice remained cold, but with a barely perceptible tremor: "Madam said this is your last chance, and she's only giving you half a month to consider it, with the conditions unchanged."

The moonlight shone on the bruises on her neck, marks left from the intense struggle earlier.

Robin suddenly rolled over and pinned her beneath him, the dragon tattoo gleaming with a dark golden light in the darkness. He gripped Wind Chime's chin, forcing her to look him in the eye: "Tell your wife," he said, his thumb tracing her swollen lips, "that the day I crush the Crawford Alliance, I will personally go to her velvet bed and settle things with her."

Fengling's pupils suddenly contracted; she saw that what burned in Robin's eyes was not only desire, but also an undeniable ambition.

When the first rays of dawn pierced through the curtains, all that remained on the bed was a crumpled amethyst earring and a fresh bauhinia flower beside the pillow.

Wind Chime didn't leave; instead, she went to gather all the forces she could to help Robin. Inside the operations room, the anchor emblems stuck into the parchment map contrasted sharply with the obsidian markings.

Robin tapped rhythmically on the edge of the sand table, each tap causing the black flag representing the enemy to tremble slightly.

The Ghost General's single eye gleamed coldly in the candlelight. His kneeling posture was flawless, yet his words were the most rebellious: "My lord, the three thousand Frostwolf riders of the Frost Horde have crossed the frozen wastelands." His bone armor still bore the marks of the northern snows. "And Crawford's allied forces..."

"Snapped!"

A purple crystal chess piece suddenly embedded itself into the sand table, severing the wolf-head flag representing the barbarian army in half.

Robin finally raised his head, and the power of order flowing in his eyes made the air in the entire room freeze.

"Ghost General." His voice was soft, yet it sent a chill down the kneeling general's spine. "Are you teaching me how to be a stray dog?"

Feng Ling's figure suddenly emerged from the shadows, followed by twelve masked warriors, each with a bauhinia flower pattern etched on their breastplate by a sharp blade.

This is all the assassins she can bring to Robin.

“There’s no need to run away.” Robin’s dragon-slaying spear suddenly pointed to a spot on the sand table, where the Emerald River’s most turbulent bend was. “I’ll be here,” the golden light bursting from the spear tip instantly engulfed all the black flags, “let the Middle-earth nobles and the barbarian armies fight each other out.”

The ghost general's one eye suddenly widened as he saw the curve of his lord's lips.

That's the smile of a hunter when he sees his prey step into his trap.

In the morning mist of Bai Ning Forest, the anchor flag fluttered in the wind.

Robin's dragon-slaying spear lay across the saddle, drops of blood from its tip scorching the withered leaves. Behind him, two thousand elite soldiers stood silently, their armor stained with the blood from countless battles.

"Report—!" The scout's hooves pounded the thin frost. "The vanguard of the Crawford allied forces is three miles away!"

Andy Sue's Tang sword reflected the gleaming anchor emblem in the forest—a pre-arranged decoy.

Ironjaw was chopping down trees with a barbarian battle axe, arranging the fallen ancient logs into what appeared to be a chaotic obstacle.

"Retreat again," Robin's voice was like tempered steel, "Retreat to the bend in the river."

As the first noble coalition's heavy cavalry charged into the forest, the carefully laid traps began to take effect.

The seemingly tangled withered vines suddenly straightened, tripping the warhorse and causing it to fall over; what fell from the treetops were not fruits, but earthenware jars filled with amethyst powder, deadly gifts that would explode upon contact with blood.

On the other side of the forest, the Frostwolf cavalry led by Right Danghumulu smelled the scent of blood.

The legendary peak expert suddenly raised his hand, and the floating ice crystals reflected the chaotic battle in the distance: "They have already retreated into the forest?" His king axe cleaved through the giant trees blocking his way. "All troops, charge! Crush them! The wolf riders are not those clumsy human cavalry. In the forest, the advantage is ours."

At the most turbulent bend of the Emerald River, Robin watched the trajectory of the two torrents approaching him on the light screen, a cold smile curving his lips.

His dragon-slaying spear was deeply embedded in the riverbank silt. Then Andysu pulled out the iron chain below, and a gate opened, revealing a secret passage leading to the outside.

(End of this chapter)